The Graveyard
by Fiona Sunshine
Summary: A Teddy Lupin angst story. Oneshot.


_I hope you enjoy this story, it's my first Harry Potter fanfic_.

It was raining.

An unfamiliar sky shot down bullets of rain as the smell of a spring thunderstorm clouded the air. Every so often, a golden, scar shaped mark would split the world in half and turn everything lighter for an instant. A gloomy haze settled around the graveyard, with the short sheets of granite acting as lighthouses guiding souls who have come to find something that will never fill the hole which they have lost.

17 year old Teddy Lupin's sneakers squeaked on the wet grass. His gray t-shirt was soaked completely through and clinging to his chest. He walked through the graveyard towards a corner he knew well. When he reached the small metal gate, he simply placed a hand on the slippery rod and leaped over it, instead of clicking the door open. This was the section for the Order of the Phoenix.

Teddy walked towards the center, gently sliding his palm across other graves. For every stone, there had been people that cried. People that cared. Children left behind.

He knelt down in front of two particular graves, side by side. They were shiny silver with names cut into them perfectly. He traced R-E-M-U-S L-U-P-I-N with his finger as rain fell all around him, sticking his unruly hair to the back of his neck. He could change the color if he pleased, but right now, it was a simple mousy brown. It always was this time of year.

He had so many people to turn to. He thought this to himself, as he felt mud soak through the knees of his jeans. His parents had been incredibly popular, and noble, as people were always telling him. They had died fighting for the greater good, which is what they would have wanted. Their friends were always willing to have him over, to enjoy his company. He particularly loved being at his godfather Harry's house, messing with James, Albus, and Lilly. Harry did know exactly what he was going through, while no one else did. He had never known his parents, but he still missed them.

He always came to the graveyard this day. April twenty sixth. The day of his parents deaths, in the epic battle that was now in history books everywhere. His dad had his own damn chapter in _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Lord_, _Second Edition_. He knew his conquests, he knew what he had done. He knew he was a werewolf. But he didn't know anything about him. He didn't know if his dad drank coffee or played piano or used to read to him. He didn't know anything. Was his loss less than the ones who knew the dead?

Teddy only came this day. It was the only day where he was brave enough to sit in front of these graves. To touch them and make himself vulnerable. God, he missed them. He didn't know them, but he missed them. He never left anything, either. He couldn't bear it.

Why hadn't they become ghosts? Didn't they want to stay and look after him? Keep him out of trouble? He would never forget the time he smacked James across the face. He had been pouting and complaining- he was _grounded_, his mother had _yelled_ at him, and all he had done was turn his sister's stuffed bumblebee into a real one. What was the big _deal?_ But how dare he talk like that! Teddy would've given anything to have his mother in front of him, grounding him and punishing him. Tonks, Lupin. They were names tossed around in books and even by his own substitute family members, but they were names without real faces or feelings. At least to him.

It just wasn't fair. Most kids have at least 40 years of their lives with their parents. He'd barely had six months.

He heard footsteps behind him and he froze, but didn't move. He felt someone kneel down beside him, and it wasn't until then he realized he had been sobbing. Tears mixed with the salty tasting raindrops and his shoulders heaved with every crying gasp. His godfather didn't acknowledge him vocally, but slipped a strong arm around his shoulders. Teddy was almost embarrassed, to be completely sobbing in front of this father figure. He felt ridiculously numb as he continued sitting upright, staring at his mother and father's graves, not even bothering to wipe the rain and tears off his face.

"We miss you," Harry announced to the graves, as the wind and rain whipped around them. He held Teddy tightly, holding him together. "So, so much."

Teddy let out a great heaving sob, and laid down, pressing his face to the mud next to his father's grave.

"This is the closest I'll ever get," he hiccupped, not necessarily speaking to Harry but to himself, his mom, his dad. "Six feet of mud and grass will always be in between us."

Harry shook his head, hard, raindrops whipping off the ends of his hair, his glasses mysteriously not fogging up. "I knew you're parents. I still do," he added. "And they're never far away. They would never leave you." He pushed the knowledge that Lupin almost _had_ left to the back of his mind. Lupin was one of the best men that Harry had ever known. He had loved his son, loved him so much it had hurt him. "They're right here." Teddy looked up, and saw Harry, illuminated by the deep gray sky behind him. His hand was over his heart. "Always."

Teddy nodded, and sat up, finally wiping his face.

They were. He didn't know them, but he missed them. Because they loomed in his heart, his mind, his spirit. Pieces of them were scattered everywhere, in the remaining members of the Order, around 12 Grimmauld Place where Harry and Ginny lived, in so many people's memories. They were in one place forever, but everywhere around him, every minute of every day.


End file.
